


Wounds

by Nary



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Biting, F/M, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-30
Updated: 2010-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were bound to leave their marks on one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wounds

The President was in his bed. Laura was in his bed. She'd been so exhausted, she'd finally taken him up on the casually-made offer of a place to sleep. The Admiral had been a gentleman and taken the smaller cot, but he hadn't been able to get any shut-eye. He knew she'd slept, at least - he'd heard her soft little snores and smiled despite his tiredness. Having a woman in the room, even on the opposite side of it, was a nice change. The snoring had stopped a while ago, though, and he wondered if she was lying there awake too.

"Bill?" Her voice was pitched low, just loud enough to carry the short distance between them.

"Yes, Laura?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"I guess not," he said with a chuckle. "Too wound up, maybe."

"Me too." There was a long pause, and a bit of tossing and turning, and he wondered if she was going to try and go back to sleep, but instead she said "Come over here. Please?" And he couldn't resist that quiet need in her voice, so he crossed the room and sat down beside her on the bed. She was under the blanket, her hands folded on her chest, staring at the ceiling. "It's silly," she continued, "needing something but not doing anything about it."

"Maybe you don't know what you need."

"Oh, but I do," she said, sitting up and letting the blanket fall away. She was in a grey t-shirt he'd loaned her, but that was easy enough to remove, and then he was in her arms, kissing her, strong hands on her back, and it felt right, frak what anyone might think. She stood to step out of her panties, and he could see a little constellation of moles on her upper thigh. He wanted to kiss every one of them. He hoped he'd have the time.

She straddled his lap and pushed him back onto the bed. He hesitated a moment before touching her breasts, until she pulled his hands up to them, saying "I'm not fragile. I won't break." So he pinched her nipples, hard, and she gasped, falling forward against him, and they tangled together in the joint effort of getting his shorts off, but they managed somehow.

And then she was holding his cock steady so she could mount him, and she looked so damn beautiful when she got to the place she wanted, just rocking there on top of him with her eyes half-closed. He reached one hand up to stroke her cheek, and she turned her face into his palm and licked it, then bit down - not too hard, not yet - on the ball of his thumb. He jerked, but just a little, and smiled before wrapping that hand around the back of her neck and pulling her down to kiss him, hard.

She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he figured there'd be a nice line of welts there in the morning, but it didn't matter, because damn it, they were bound to leave their marks on one another. He hoped tomorrow one of her aides would ask her about the bite-bruise on her neck. He'd have paid good money to hear her answer.

Her thick red hair hung around his face like a curtain, cutting them off from the rest of the universe. Soon it was easy to believe that nothing existed outside those walls - there was nothing else beyond the panting of their breath, the sweat on their skin, the slow, steady slide of him into her. "Gods, Laura," he whispered just as he came, until she silenced his moans with her mouth.

After, while he was still hard enough to stay inside her, she rocked back onto her heels, leaning back far enough to give both of them ready access to her clit. He let her start stroking herself, watched her face soften and smooth as she rubbed in quick little circles. But it was too tempting to resist, so he licked his thumb and brought it in beside her fingers, and soon she let him take over the job. She squirmed on top of him and tossed her hair, and finally she cried out something wordless and raw, and he felt her still trembling as he slid out of her.

She lay beside him until morning, her head pillowed in the crook of his arm, and neither of them wanted to ruin the moment by talking about whether it was right or if it would happen again. Their wounds were laid bare, and it was enough, just as it was.


End file.
